The Adventures of the Register
by Paradox Predator
Summary: What happens when a group of Time Lords leave Gallifrey just before the Time War? Watch the Predator, the Siren and others as they get into trouble with Daleks, Cybermen, Faction Paradox, and many other villains! But who is the mysterious figure shadowing them? Mostly OC cast. Rated T for Time Lord.
1. Chapter 1

** Well, this was written for the Official Time Lord Registry Forum. Please check that out at forum/The-Official-Time-Lord-Registry/88918/ . Thank you.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, would I be writing fan-fics?**

_On this day, I, the Predator of the House of Heartshaven of the Chapter of Prydon, do take it upon myself to chronicle the first years of the adventures of the Registry. A collection of Time Lords of all Chapters and many Houses dedicated to the salvation of any Chronarchs who escaped the destruction of Gallifrey at the end of the Last Great Time War. So I have written it and so it shall be done._

_..._

Two hundred years ago...

"Zak, please don't go!" the girl cried. "I had a vision last night. Something terrible will happen if you look!"

"Get off, Roma," Zak replied, pulling the black and white surplice on over his clothing. "It's an initiation. I'm nervous, but everything's gonna go fine. Please just let me go." Roma only clung to him harder.

"Please, Zak! I don't want you to go!" she was sobbing by this time. Zak hesitated. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. If Roma's feeling were strong enough to drive her to tears about this, then maybe-

"Romanadvoratrelundar!" came the voice of the Housekeeper. "What are you doing? It is almost time for Zak to leave!"

"But that's the problem!" Roma explained. "When he goes, something bad will happen."

"Really, Roma, stop this nonsense." the Housekeeper said. "Over the thousands of years that Heartshaven has existed, very few members of our House have gone mad during an initiation."

That's when the Escorts came for Zak. They led him to the Cold Vaults of Rassilon and to the Mirror. The Head Escort stepped forward and touched his staff to the Seal of Rassilon in front of the Mirror. The white point star in the staff's head resonated with the Schism as the Mirror began to vibrate, shift and dissapear. Letting the whole of the Time Vortex be seen.

"Time Lord Initiate Zak-day-zeltravo of the House of Heartshaven of the Prydonian Chapter," the Head Escort read from the Black Scroll, "do you accept the sacred knowledge of the Order of the Time Lords?"

"I do." the eight-year-old boy said.

"Then will you look into the Untempered Schism, through which the great Time Vortex, all of time and space, all that was, all that is, and all that could ever be, may be seen?"

Zak swallowed hard. "I- I will."

"Then speak the words of the Ancient Oath." the Head Escort said. Seeming not to notice the stuttering.

"I swear to protect the Ancient Law of Gallifrey with all my might and brain. I will to the end of my days, with justice and with honor temper my actions and my thoughts." Zak recited.

"Then you may gaze into the Schism," the Escort said, stepping aside to allow Zak to see the Vortex.

Zak stared into the raw power of time, and saw many things. He saw love, and hate. Happiness and sadness. Courage and fear. But most of all, he saw himself. A twisted thing standing on a mountaintop, gazing down into destruction as all around him turned to flames.

The Flames burned through his mind. The Flames of War filled his thoughts. The Schism closed, but the Flames stayed.

"Now," the Head Escort said, "what do you choose as your title? Zak looked at him and grinned. His smile a feral baring of teeth.

"I am the Predator," he said. Miles away, Roma buried her head in a pillow and sobbed for the loss of a cousin and friend.

...

Many years later...

"Milady President, this is madness!" the Lord Chancellor exclaimed. "The Daleks are more aggressive every day! The last thing we need is to send a group of our best off on some fool quest! Please understand, I say this with the highest respect."

"I'm sure you do, milord," Lady President Romana said. "However, I believe that this is a good idea, the Council has ratified it, and, frankly, you don't tell me what to do. The Register project is an important one. I know exactly who will lead it."

"Who, milady?" the Chancellor asked. "Who would go off on this venture in the midst of approaching war?"

"The Professor shall lead it," Romana said. "Others that shall go with her include the Siren, the Kat and..."

"And who?" The Chancellor felt very worried by the President's pause.

"And the Predator," Romana said decidedly. "Please summon them to the Citadel at once." The Chancellor bowed.

"It shall be done, milady."


	2. The Register, Chapter One: Briefing

**Hi, everyone. It's me. Remember to check out the Official Time Lord Registry forum. Yeah. That's it. Oh, and I still don't own Doctor Who.**

...

The Register: Chapter One.

...

_The Fires were coming. The Fires were burning. The Fires were destr-_

"Hey, are you okay?" The Predator squeezed his eyes shut to banish the Flames and turned to the person who had addressed him. A young Time Lady and her friends. Their heliotrope uniforms proclaimed their allegiance to the Patrex Chapter. The Predator was a Prydonian.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said. What were they doing? No one ever spoke to him unless they had to. "Er...how are you?" he asked lamely, sticking his hand out. The red haired girl with yellow eyes (how odd) grasped his hand and shook it.

"I'm fine. I'm the Siren, by the way. And this is my cousin, the Narrator," the mousy looking brown-haired girl stepped forward and spoke quietly.

"We're Patrexes from House Brocktunnel. We're on the Register Project," she said, gesturing to the TARDIS docking bays around them. "How about you?" The Predator looked down at his feet, then back at the twosome.

"Yeah. Register Project. That's me. I'm the Predator. I'm a Prydonian from Heartshaven. Like the Lady President." The Narrator blinked, but the Siren obviously wasn't so easily impressed.

"Right. Well, in my book, you gotta do something a tad more impressive than be related to a politician to impress me. Let's go, carnivore." She walked off swiftly, leaving the Predator spluttering with annoyance as he followed.

"Carnivore?"

...

Outside the doors to the Register Project, Chancellor Balinor paced up and down. What was President Romana thinking? It had been bad enough when he thought that they were going to send some of their best off on this ridiculous journey, but the group of oddballs he had been given to work with? Why not just throw the Doctor in with them and complete the collection?

He eyed the three Chronarchs approaching him. Case in point. Two over-imaginative Patrex Authoresses and a Time Lord in a black robe edged with deep red and gold, who, on closer inspection, appeared to be the Lady President's psychotic cousin. These were just the icing on the cake. The others were just as bizarre. The bunch of title-claiming, rebellious lunatics. He sighed and stepped forward to greet the newcomers.

" Milord. Miladies. It is an, _ahem, _honor to meet the ones to be going on this venture," he said sarcastically. "Won't you please accompany me to the briefing room?" He walked off down the nearby corridor with a worlds-weary air about him.

"Well, he seems like a little bundle of joy," the Predator muttered. The Siren looked at him and smiled.

"Want to see me mess with him?" she asked. The Predator nodded and she pulled out a slim, metal rod. "This is a psychic wavelength emitter. It should cause a minor hallucination. What do you want him to see?"

The Predator thought for a moment, then grinned slightly. "Can you make him get completely mobbed by flutterwings?" he asked. The Siren nodded.

"Easiest thing in the universe!" she said, aiming the device at Chancellor Balinor. It emitted a quiet ringing sound, and the Chancellor immediately began slapping at the air and jumping around.

"How did these get here?" he yelped, clearly surprised. "This passage is sealed to the outside..." As he figured out what happened, his vision of the flutterwings vanished and he turned to glare at the Siren, who was still holding out the emitter. These foolish Patrexes could be so annoying. "Ahem," he said. "If you are done acting childish, perhaps you could follow me."

...

In the briefing room, the Lady President walked back and forth, waiting. Where was her cousin? Rassilon, he could be irritating when he wanted to be. She would bet anything that he was late on purpose. The Professor, the Time Lady heading off the Register Project, turned to Romana and spoke.

"Milady President, with respect, how much longer do we have to wait? It's been an hour now. Are you certain that your cousin will show up?" Romana sighed.

"He assured me that he would be coming, Professor," she said. "All I have are his assurances. As well as those of the two Brocktunnels. I'm sure that they won't be much longer."

The Professor shook her head. She wasn't at all certain why the President had chosen her cousin and those Patrexes for this Project. They had the sort of personalities that would undoubtedly conflict, and it was well-known that the Predator had gone mad during his initiation. Just then, Chancellor Balinor and the trio of oddballs entered the briefing room.

"Milords. Miladies," the Chancellor said, bowing to everyone in the room. Which included several Time Ladies and a Time Lord who stood off to the side uncomfortably. "I am here to present The Ladies Siren and Narrator from the House of Brocktunnel of the Patrex Chapter, and the Lord Predator from the House of Heartshaven of the Prydonian Chapter. That is all. Might I withdraw?"

"Not immediately please, Chancellor Balinor," Romana said. "Since you will be seeing to the Register crew as they prepare, I wish for you to stay here and listen to the briefing," she turned to the others. "Might you all introduce yourselves? The Professor stepped forward first.

"I'm the Professor," she said. "I'm heading this Project. So you all need to listen to me. I'm a Prydonian from Blyledge, so I won't take any nonsense. Thank you." Then a Lady in a Prydonian red uniform came forward.

"Hello!" she chirped. "I'm the Kat, spelled with a 'K'. Cats are a sort of creature from the planet Sol III, and I like how it looks spelled with a 'K' instead of a 'C'. I'm going to be in charge of navigation on this trip. Oh, and I'm from Lungbarrow House. Does it explain too much?" the Kat grinned as the Time Lord took her place.

"Hello. I'm called the Multi-Bot. I'm from a parallel universe to this one. There aren't many differences. Except that the Doctor is President Theta Sigma of Gallifrey*. I'm from the House Dvora of my universe. It's a pleasure to be here with all of you. I'm on this Project to learn about other universes for the Gallifreyan Empire. Thank you." the Multi-Bot went back to fiddling with mechanical bits and the Predator stepped forward.

"Hello, everyone. As most of you know, I'm the Predator, from Heartshaven, and I'll be in charge of defense and diguise on this trip." The two Patrexes came forward next, but the Siren did most of the talking as the Narrator kept scribbling in her book.

"Hey, everyone!" the Siren said. "We're the Siren and Narrator from Brocktunnel of Patrex. We're going to be in charge of researching and chronicling species that we encounter on the trip."

"Thank you, everyone," President Romana said. "Now, the Register Project is a group of Chronarchs- that is, you- will go out into the universe in one of our best TARDISes-"

"Excuse me," the Multi-Bot interrupted. "Don't you mean TT Capsule?" Romana laughed and continued speaking.

"Capsule?" she asked. "Why call it a Capsule? Just say TARDIS if you mean TARDIS! Anyway, as I was saying, you will take one of our best TARDISes and travel through the universe, trying to find new life-forms and catalogue them, while at the same time looking for a weapon to nuetralize the Dalek threat to Gallifrey."

She turned to the Chancellor and gestured to a button on the conference table. "Chancellor? If you would do the honors?" Chancellor Balinor walked over and pressed the button. The walls at the back of the room slid back, revealing the dull metal cylinder of a TARDIS.

"This is the Register," Romana explained. "A Type 57, Mark 3 TARDIS used for exploration and espionage. It's the best in our fleet and it will be your home for quite a while. I suggest you learn to love it."

The Kat whistled. "A Type fifty-seven? Nice. When do we leave?" she asked. "I hope it's soon. I want to see the inside of that thing." The President looked at her and spoke again.

"That's why I've called you here now," she said. "You leave in a week."

...

***My explanation of what the Doctor does in Pete's World.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, everyone. Yup. Bit of a shock, I've changed my pen name. Sorry. Anyway, here's the new chapter.**

Chapter Two

...

That night, in the quarters assigned to the inseparable Narrator and Siren, the duo of Time Ladies was reading over their dossier for the Project.

"Hey, Narrator," the Siren said, "listen to this. There's another that hasn't shown up yet." The Narrator got up from her perch on the headboard of her bed and looked at the monitor.

"Really? Who?" she asked. "Where are they from and what's their job?" The Siren scrolled down, reading through the information.

"She's known as the Cariad. Hm, interesting name. She's the Professor's cousin from Blyledge House and will be acting as First Officer for this trip. The Cariad sounds like she's had an interesting life. I see that she's on her eleventh form-"

"Eleventh?" the Narrator grabbed the selector and started to read. "Wow! She was trapped on Sol III for centuries hiding from an organization called Torchwood. They called her the Time Vigilante and tried to capture her multiple times. She built a steam powered sonic screwdriver in the Earth eighteen-hundreds! Can you believe that? Steam powered!" The Siren grabbed the selector back.

"Then one day, a wormhole caused by the Faction Paradox opened and she ended up back here on Gallifrey! She had to completely re-learn the language! That is an achievement. It must have been really hard for her..." she looked lost in thought for a moment, then brightened up.

"Right! That's the end of that document! We'll read more later. Want to go for a walk?" With the Narrator's affirative, they picked up the airwave micro-scanner in case they wanted to listen to the news and headed out into the ulanda forest.

...

The Cariad stormed down the Panopticon hallway, cursing in Welsh. How dare the Professor sign her up for this? "Oh, you need to get back into the Universe!" she'd said! Why should that _girl _(at least compared to the Cariad) make decisions for her?

"Oh, hi, Professor!" the Cariad said cheerfully, stewing inside, as the object of her annoyance appeared. "I was actually just looking for you. I wanted to ask why you signed me up for this?" The Professor sighed and motioned to a nearby window seat.

"You know why I signed you up," she began. "I did this because all you've been doing lately is sitting in your room at Blyledge and moping about all the times that Woodtorch-"

"Torchwood."

"That Torchwood place captured you. I know that it was bad. I know that you regenerated many times. But- and this is important- I also know that if you don't get out, you are going to go mad just sitting around and thinking about what you have been through. So, will you give this a chance?" The Cariad shifted uneasily in her seat. What to do? She made a decision.

"I'll go."

...

The Siren had no idea how it had happened! One minute she and the Narrator had been walking through Elysium, along the path that went through Sisyphus Heights. Then a hooded figure had ran past and knocked the Narrator off of the cliff! Now she was hanging from a jutting rock as the River Styx swirled below.

"Siren! Help!" the Narrator called, desperately trying to maintain her grip on the slippery cliff-face. The Siren was panicking. What to do? What to do? She quickly took off her over-robe and hooked one end over a rock. That done, she lowered the lengthy ceremonial train down to the Narrator.

"Grab on!" she yelled.

"I can't! I can't let go!" the Narrator screamed back. "What was that, anyway!?"

"I don't know!" the Siren said. "But you _need _to grab the robe! It'll give me some time!" Time to work something out.

"Okay! I'm going to try now!" the Narrator reached out with one hand and grasped the end of the robe. Tentatively, she put some weight on it. It held. The Narrator closed her eyes and grabbed it with the other hand, trusting all of her weight to the ceremonial over-robe. It held.

The Siren sighed with relief. It had worked.

"Okay! Stay right there!" she called. "I'm going to call for help!"

"With what?" the Narrator called back. What did they have that could call for help?

"I'm going to reconfig- Never mind! I'm just going to!" the Siren said as she began to take apart the micro-scanner and her psychic wavelength emitter. Powering up her sonic screwdriver (a must for the Time Lord tool-box) she quickly combined them into a psychic distress signal and communicator. Picking up the comm unit, she pressed against her forehead.

_Okay, _she thought. _First test._

...

The hooded figure lurked in the shadows of the ulanda trees. _Interesting, _it pondered. _The girl is proving more resourceful than I thought she would be. _It grimaced. _For a Patrex, of course, _it added.

So, this 'Register' nonsense might prove useful after all. From what they had seen, the foolish Time Lords thought that they were getting rid of their most troublesome specimens, but the cloaked and hooded being could see that the President Romana was the one that was correct. With the impending Dalek invasion, she was sending off their best minds. The ones that truly understand the Universe. _And the Multiverse, _they thought, thinking of the Multi-Bot. Hah! The others thought that his name was an idle joke. Little did they know what he was capable of.

Turning its attention back to the two Time Ladies at the cliff-edge, the hooded figure hoped that the Narrator escaped. _After all, my plans do require all of them..._

**AN: Anyone who guesses who the villain is before I reveal it gets cookies. And possibly a favorite on their Doctor Who story! Please review!**

**-Predator**

**PS: Sorry for putting you in that situation, Narrator. It had to be done, for the good of the story.**


	4. Chapter Three: The Rescue

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Doctor Who. If I did, I'd be writing the show. Not a fan-fic.**

Chapter Three

...

The Predator and the Kat were in the Panopticon repair shop arguing about whether sonic or laser screwdrivers were better (the Predator said laser) when they felt a presence trying to assert itself in their minds. Putting aside their argument and linking minds, they opened up to the presence and listened to the incoming message.

A second later, the repair shop was empty, as the two Prydonians rushed to help their friends.

...

The Siren was becoming worried. It had been ten minutes since she started sending her message through the impromptu psychic distress beacon and still no answer. All at once, she felt a massive surge of worry, followed by a reassuring message. Glad that help was on its way, the Siren leaned over the cliff and called down to the Narrator, "It's okay! Someone's coming?"

"Who is it?" the Narrator called back. In the past few minutes, she had managed to wedge her left foot into a crack in the cliff-face and now was in much less danger of falling. However, she still couldn't climb up.

"I don't know!" the Siren said. "It's not like we stopped to chat! I just told them that someone was hanging off of a cliff and they said that they were coming! I hope they bring rope!"

"So do I," sighed the Narrator.

...

The Predator and the Kat were raiding the complex for anything that might come in handy. They decided on some rope and a med-pac and raced out to Elysium in an air-car.

"You think she's okay?" the Kat asked.

"She better be," said the Predator. "If she dies, I'm gonna kill her."

"Predator!"

"What?"

"That's not very nice!" the Kat reprimanded.

"So what?" the Predator defended himself. "It was just a joke! You might have said the same thing. Why is it bad if I say it?"

"I guess it's not," the Kat admitted. "It's just that you might..."

"Mean it?" the Predator finished. "I'm mad, not heartless. And honestly, I'm not really mad except for these blasted flames! They're a distraction. Sometimes they push me to do dangerous things. Sometimes I get hurt and sometimes I hurt other people. But it's always an accident. I'm not dangerous. Will you believe me?" The Kat thought about it. She had heard about some of the reckless things he did. There was a reason he was two-hundred and already on his third form.

"Yeah," she decided. "I'll believe you. Under one condition."

"What's that?" the Predator asked.

"Admit that sonic is better than laser!"

"Never!"

"Okay, I'll still believe you," the Kat decided. "I need someone to do crazy stuff with!" the Predator just smiled. He had just made his first friend in a long time. But the smile was slightly sour. How long until he lost her?

...

As the air-car swooped down to Sisyphus Heights, the Siren stood up and waved her arms to let them see where she was. They couldn't fail to see her bright, heliotrope uniform and soon the car had landed and the rope was being let down over the cliff. The mysterious, cloaked figure watched from the shadows as the Narrator was pulled up and tended to.

_"How quick they are to come to each other's aid, _it thought. _But is this loyalty a strength or a weakness? Only time will tell... _With that, the figure activated the Vortex Manipulator on its wrist and disappeared with a zap and a spark.

...

"Did anyone hear that?" the Kat asked, cocking her head towards the nearby woods.

"Hear what?" the Siren asked. "I hear a lot of insects and I hear you, but what do want us to hear?"

"It's nothing," the Kat said. "I thought I heard a zap and it felt like there was a slight jolt in Time, but I could have been mistaken."

"No," the Narrator said, quietly. "I didn't hear anything, but I felt the Time-jump, too. I think someone may have Time-traveled in the nearby vicinity."

"Who could that have been?" asked the Kat. "And why didn't they come and help?"

"Maybe," said the Narrator, "because it was the same person who knocked me off the cliff in the first place."

...

The Time Lord known as the Doctor strode through the halls of the Panopticon, his long, curly hair brushing his shoulders. Though he would not gain the name until much later, he was every inch the Oncoming Storm. Today, however, he was not here to fight. He was here at the request of his old friend, President Romana. The Lady President had called him here to ask his advice on the matter of some young Chronarchs she was going to send off to see the Universe.

Honestly, the Doctor wasn't sure why she called him. He thought it was a wonderful idea, obviously. Of course, it was always a good idea to obey direct orders from the President of Gallifrey, and it was _never _a good idea to ignore requests from old friends!

Stepping into Romana's office, he told the secretary to tell the Lady President that the Doctor had arrived. She came back almost instantly.

"President Romana is expecting you and wishes you to enter immediatly."

"Thank you very much," the Doctor said warmly. He then entered the office.

Romana had changed since the days she had traveled with him. The blond hair he had loved so much had turned brown and was cut short. Even her personality was different. Harder. More commanding. She was the perfect President of Gallifrey. The perfect Time Lady. But where was his friend?

The Doctor hid his emotions, as he had always done and would always do, and carried on a conversation with her. After several minutes, Romana turned towards the topic she had summoned him for.

"Doctor," she asked, "what do you think of allowing these young ones to run about the Universe? Several members of my cabinet think it a very bad idea."

"Well," the Doctor said, "officially, it's really none of my business. Your cabinet was chosen for a reason. And I'm not on it."

"Yes," Roman said. "That's true. Officially, it's none of your business." She leaned forward. "But _un_-officially? What is you entirely unofficial opinion?" Ah. There was his friend. There was Romana as the Doctor had known her. He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, even entirely _un_-officially, I can't say anything." Romana began to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"That is to say," he smiled. "I can't say anything without meeting them first."

**Eighth Doctor for the win! I hope he was OC. It's been a while since I watched the movie. Remember to vote on who the villain was.**


	5. The TARDIS

The Register Chap 4

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Doctor Who. I think the BBC does. Unless they sold it.**

**Here's the new chapter. I still can't believe that the conversation about clothes is something I wrote.**

...

The young Time Lords (and Ladies) flew back the Citadel, laughing about the close call they had had. When they got there, they were confronted by several Chancellery Guards, who informed them that the Lady President requested their presence at the TARDIS docking bay. The Kat jumped at one of them and hugged him, much to everyone's surprise.

"Thank you!" she yelped. "We're finally going to see the inside of the Register! Thank you!" The Guard extracted himself from her and stood back, eyeing her warily.

"Yes, you're going to be shown to your posts," he said. "Also, the Lady President has a guest whom she wishes you to meet. Please follow me." With that, he turned and walked away. The others all followed, barely containing their excitement.

...

Once again, Chancellor Balinor had been called on. Why was it always him? Oh, that's right. Because he's the personal aide to President Romanadvoratrelundar. Silly him.

Still, he didn't see why he had to personally deal with all of these youngsters. He was two-thousand years old, after all. Oh well, he would do his duty and go collect the others.

When he got to the area the Register initiates were staying in, he found the Cariad, the Professor and the Multi-Bot in the lounge, playing chess. He walked inside and cleared his throat. The three looked up.

"Yes? What is it?" the Multi-Bot asked. "Is it time to go?" The Chancellor stood up straighter and took a deep breath. They would not intimidate him. He was an important member of the High Council of Gallifrey.

"Yes," he said. "It is time for you to see the TT Capsule in which you will be living for quite a while. Come with me, please."

...

The Doctor and Romana stood in the docking bay and watched the charging TARDISes. Over the past few hours, the Doctor had gotten his younger friend to loosen up so much so that she now acted almost as she had used to, and now they were admiring the incoming Capsules. As each one landed and transformed into a silver cylinder, they tried to guess where it had been from the brief flash of its previous form.

"Look, Doctor," Romana said, pointing at one that had just been a blue, crystalline structure. "That one must have been on Metebelis III." The Doctor looked over and nodded.

"Very true," he said. "But look at that one." It was a small, archaic-looking, snowy building. "I'll bet my Jelly-Babies that it comes from Ribos. Remember Ribos?" Romana glanced over at him and blushed, remembering how strict and imperious she had been. Fresh from the Academy, thinking she knew everything.

"How could I forget?" she asked, thinking about how they had almost died there. She decided not to mention that. "It was where we found the first segment of the Key to Time," she concluded. The Doctor bowed his head, deep in thought.

"Yes," he said after a while. "It was where we- Oh, look, Romana!" he exclaimed. "That one must have come fresh from Raxacoricofallapatorius!" Romana sighed. This version of the Doctor had a very short attention span. It was likely that she would never hear the end of his original sentence. However, she had very little time to think about it because the Initiates turned up just then.

...

"I'm telling you," the Predator said, gesturing wildly, "the best Sol III clothes are from the era they call 'Victorian' after a queen of the country of Great Britain!" The Siren shook her head. They had been arguing for a while now, and were driving the poor Guard crazy.

"Maybe for men," she countered. "But what about women? All those skirts and things! Would you want to wear a corset?" she said, turning to the Narrator, who shook her head emphatically.

"No I would not!" she said. "The best Earth clothing for women comes from the mid twentieth century Anno Domini, in their time-counting system. They were loose and easy to move in, yet still held onto some vestiges of elegance. And there were no corsets!" The Predator backed off nervously.

"I concede," he said. "You know, for someone who doesn't talk much, you can be pretty passionate when you do talk." The Narrator smiled and looked down.

"That's because I wait until I have something real to say," she said quietly. Just then their Guard stopped them.

"Here we are," he said. "Welcome to the Register." President Romana walked to them and smiled.

"Good evening," she said to them all. "Today we're going to enter the TARDIS for the first time, in order to familiarize you all with Type fifty-seven controls. Right now, though, I'd like you all to meet my friend," she beckoned to the Doctor. "This is my oldest friend. He's called the Doctor." The Doctor gave a little wave with a green-sleeved arm.

"Hello," he said casually. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. What are your names? Or rather, what do you call yourselves?" The Professor stepped forward to introduce them all.

"I'm the Professor," she said. "I'm going to be the captain of this vessel." She finished naming the others off, one-by-one. When she was finished, the Doctor nodded and shook hands with them all politely. When he got to the Predator, however, he frowned and glanced at his attire.

"You remind me of someone," he said thoughtfully. "What House are you from?" The Predator looked at him oddly. Why was he asking that?

"I'm from Heartshaven, like the Lady President," he answered. "We're the last of the Heartshavens, actually." The Doctor frowned and glanced down.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It's just- no. It's silly. I just thought you might be from Oakdown," he said. "I used to have a friend from Oakdown. He dressed like you." The Predator started back. Black was traditionally the color of Time Lords who had gone mad. The famous Doctor, the former President of Gallifrey, used to be friends with a madman? Absurd.

"Oh...al-alright," he stuttered, unsure of what to say. Then it came to him. "Shall we go inside now?" He walked up to the TARDIS without waiting for an answer and opened the door. The others followed him.

Of them all, the Predator was the only one who had never been in a TARDIS before. It was forbidden to him because he was considered unstable. No one knew what he might do at any given time. Everyone remembered the day he had tried to reverse the flow of time in the Citadel. It was a risk bringing on the Register Project, but Romana had insisted.

As he walked in, the Predator's jaw dropped. "It's bigger...on the inside..." The others, however, had seen it all before and were not fazed a bit. The Kat moved to the console and inspected her panel.

"Haha!" she laughed. "Fluid controls! My favorite!" She looked over at the Doctor. "What do you think of fluid controls?" The Doctor smiled at her

"Fluid controls are a usual favorite of all Lungbarrows. My TARDIS absolutely refuses to install them, though." He looked around. "Still. Rather odd considering the general desktop. Isn't it?"

The rest of the desktop was a sort of Victorian theme, not unlike the Doctor's own TARDIS. However, it was less elegant and more utilitarian, with lots of moving gears and cogs. The Predator appreciated it quite a bit.

"Hm. Very steampunk," he said. "What do you think, Siren?" The Siren snorted.

"_Too _steampunk, if you ask me," she said. "I'd prefer a nice, bright theme to this dark, bronzy room. Could we change it?"

We'll change it every now and then," the Professor said. "There'll be plenty of time for everyone to do what they want, as well as do our jobs." She turned to the President. "So, do we leave soon?"

"Of course," Romana said. "You can leave soon."

…

**Next Chapter, they leave.**


	6. Chapter 5: Take-off

The Register Chapter Five

…

It was finally the day that the Register Project was to leave. The Cronarchs chosen, including the late addition of the Arcalian Lady Troubador, were very excited to leave. Except for chancellor Balinor.

"What do you mean, I'm going?" he asked the Lady President. "How can you lock me into a Capsule with those…those renegades?" Romana looked at him sharply.

"You are going with them to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't get into too much trouble. If you wish to have a quiet talk, the Professor will adequately fulfill the position of confidant.

"But that's just it!" the Chancellor kept complaining. "The Professor and I don't like each other." At that, Romana had to smile.

"Oh, come now, Chancellor," she said. "Surely you realize how childish you sound? I have chosen you to follow a group of our finest minds on an expedition of exploration beyond the Mutter's Spiral. Surely you can appreciate that?" Balinor was about to protest further when he felt the presence of another Time Lord behind him. He turned slightly to see the Professor standing there. Sighing, he turned back to the President.

"Yes, milady, I shall do as you say and accompany the Register." Smiling at the reaction on the Professor's face, he turned to go and pack some things. He wouldn't need much. Anything he didn't bring, the TARDIS would provide.

The Professor glared at Lady Romana. "You're sending _him?"_ she asked, infuriated. Romana smiled.

"Yes," she said.

"But why him?" asked the Professor. "He hates excitement! He'll probably make us run at the first sign of a Draconian or an Absorbalovian."

"I know," said Romana. "That's why I'm sending him. Most of you are overly reckless, and he's overly cautious. You'll temper each other." The Professor could see that this was an argument she wasn't going to win.

"Under protest, milady," she said, walking away.

…

And so, eventually the crew of the Register stood assembled, with the President of Gallifrey and the Doctor to see them off. The Professor, the Cariad,Chancellor Balinor, the Multi-Bot, the Siren, the Narrator, the Troubador, the Kat, and the Predator.

The Troubador was a thin girl with curly brown hair. Fresh out of the Academy, she had never regenerated and still had only one heart. She was of the House Fordacross in the Chapter of Arcal. She refused to speak to anyone.

"Well," said the Doctor, "a fine crew for a fine TARDIS. I wish you luck, but I have to be going now. Things to do, places to see, you know?" Shaking hands with everyone, he sauntered off to a blue police box sitting in a docking station. The familiar sound of the dematerialization circuits filled the air, and then he was gone.

"Don't mind him," President Romana said. "He's always had a flair for the dramatic. I remember one time…" For a moment she seemed lost in thought, and then she shook her head and kept talking. "Well, never mind that. It's time for you all to go. I hope you have a very pleasant trip."

"Thank you, milady," The Professor said. "We will do our duty. I hope to see you on our return."

"The same to you," said Romana. Then she turned to look at the Predator. "Goodbye, Zak." The Predator looked embarrassed at the use of his childhood nickname, but grunted a goodbye all the same.

The crew turned and went into the Register, which would be their home for the next few years. Once again the sound of dematerialization filled the docking bay as the TARDIS faded into the Vortex.

…

Inside the Register, everyone was at their posts. However, with them still in orbit to get a last look at Gallifrey before heading off, there wasn't much for some of them to do. The Predator in particular was getting edgy. The Siren resolved to keep an eye on him.

The Predator signaled the Captain's Chair. "Professor? Permission to exit the console room as my services are not required?"

"Permission granted," the Professor said. "But keep an ear out in case we call for you."

"Will do," the Predator said as he left. The Siren thought that he was acting very oddly and decided to follow him.

"Professor? Permission to follow the Predator?" she asked. You couldn't keep to close an eye on him.

"Permission granted," said the Professor distractedly. She was busy with the scanners and was only half-listening to what the Siren had said. The Siren thanked her and hurried after the Predator.

…

As the Siren penetrated further into the unexplored depths of the Register, she followed the Predator's psychic trail. Finally, she found the room it ended in. The library. Entering, she poked around for a while before finding the Predator in an alcove, repeating his name over and over. Why was he playing Eighth Man Down? Especially on his own. As the Siren watched, his form began to shimmer as he tried to see his next regeneration. This had gone too far. She stepped into his vision.

"What in the seven hells are you doing?" she demanded. The response was that his eyes shot open and the white glow around his body brightened for a moment before he forced it to fade.

"I was trying…to see…my next regeneration…" he gasped, trying to hold in the energy. "But then you…interrupted me, and…now I need to…try to stop from…actually regenerating! Agh!" The Siren stepped back.

"Look, you can't do this. I'll get you to the Zero Room. You'll contain the energy. It'll all be fi-"

The ship shook and the Predator collapsed against a bookshelf, hitting his head on the sharp corner. The white light brightened and engulfed his whole body. The Siren winced and covered her eyes.

"Ouch," she said.

When the light faded, the Predator wasn't tall with black hair anymore. Now he was only about five feet, three inches and had light blond hair. He was also almost emaciatedly thin compared to his former self.

"Crud," he said when his eyes opened. Red eyes. "What was that?" The Siren glanced between his red eyes and blond hair. The opposite of her yellow eyes and red hair.

"I don't know, but we better get you to the Zero Room," she said. The Predator nodded.

"No arguments there."

…

In the Zero Room, the Predator was relaxing as the Siren made a quick call to the console room.

"A message to all crew," she said. "The Predator regenerated in the turbulence. Repeat: The Predator regenerated in the turbulence." The Troubador's little-heard voice echoed through the PA back to them.

"Yeah? Well, as soon as he's better, tell him to get up here. We're in trouble. Over and out." When he heard that, the Predator jumped up.

"Come on, Siren! We gotta go!" he yelled. The Siren sighed.

"Hang on there, Carnivore," she said. "You're not okay. You just stay here and-" The Predator _hissed_ at her. Literally hissed, with sharp teeth and everything. "Or you could go," the Siren continued, a little unnerved. She knew Time Lords sometimes ended up looking like strange species when they regenerated. But red eyes and sharp teeth? Weird.

…

When the Predator got to the console room, with the Siren in tow, the first words out of his mouth went something like, "That doesn't look good _at all."_

Shown on the main scanner, having the Register caught in a Chronon Loop, which had caused the turbulence, were ten Dalek saucer ships.

…

**TBC**


End file.
